Crazy For You
by Norbert02
Summary: Tony learns to function, Gibbs goes a little crazy and luxury items play a pivotal role in seduction.  ****SLASH****
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

Tony kicked the door to his apartment closed with a growl. "Asshole." He said. "Fucking, fucking, fuckity fucking asshole."

Tony dropped his ruined coat at his feet and ripped off his tie, not noticing as the fine silk ripped and fluttered to the floor. His shoes he kicked off against the wall, the thud they made, as well as the black scuff they left behind, satisfying.

"Who the fuck does he think he is, anyhow?" Tony asked the empty room, wrenching open the fridge and grabbing a premium lager. "I shop at fucking Sears and have a fucking moronic haircut and therefore, I know all."

Tony tugged off the rest of his clothing and pulled on his most comfortable, most ratty sweatpants and purple Buckeye's hoody.

He hit the preheat button on the oven, downed the last of his beer in four long swallows and immediately grabbed another one. Food, lots of food was needed. Greasy pizza accompanied by every last beer and every last mouthful of ice cream he had.

With that thought, Tony slammed down his drink and grabbed a spoon from the drawer. There was at least half a pint of that gourmet butter tart ice cream he'd found at the new bakery down the street.

"Mph, good. Fucking asshole wouldn't know good from bad if it was rammed up his ass." Tony muttered around a huge mouthful.

The stove beeped and then beeped again in rapid, irritating concession. "Fucking heard you." Tony said irritably, pulling out the frozen pizza, tearing off the wrapper and dropping it onto a baking sheet and into the oven. "Fucking annoying sound, you know. That beep. Maybe once. How bout that. Beep fucking once and we'll all know it's hot enough. Right? No? How about instead you beep ten times in a row, wait all of one second and then just keep beeping. Yeah, that makes sense."

Tony stormed out of the kitchen, took a lap around his living room and then slumped down into his worn, leather easy chair. He dug out mountainous spoonfuls of ice cream and shovelled them in his mouth following them each with ice cold, honey blond lager. "That is very good." He said, feeling himself deflate like an old punctured balloon, all the hot air leaving him in a long slow fizzle.

Tony had been angry as hell for hours now. He'd held it in the rest of the day at work, grinning maniacally at Ziva and McGee and keeping his tongue clutched firmly between his teeth. He'd left at exactly 5 pm and had taken out most of his anger on the commute home. He knew he was lucky that his reckless driving hadn't ended badly but the alternative would have been much worse. The alternative would have been him storming up into Vance's office, hauling Gibbs out of it and planting his fist right in the asshole's smug mouth.

Oh and he would have deserved it too. Tony thought, shaking his head and crumpling the 1/2 empty, sweaty cardboard ice cream container.

He got up and put away the ice cream and rolled his neck hard left and then right. Pulled another beer out of the fridge and downed it while staring at the oven. Ten more minutes and he'd have hot pepperoni, cheese and enough beer to send him to bed nice and early. Food and beer coma. Not Tony's preference for dealing with frustration but the last thing he felt like tonight was seeing another living person. Not at a gym or a bar or at one of his weekend poker set ups.

He kind of wanted to cry. He wouldn't because not only do DiNozzo's not cry, but neither do federal agents. And they certainly don't go around blubbering because their boss is a fucked up, repressed son a bitch who was more constipated than… than. Someone really constipated. Tony laughed a little at his absurdity. He'd been carrying on like a ten year old with a bad temper and a foul mouth but what else was he supposed to do?

He'd saved Gibbs' life today and had gotten a bruised kidney to show for it. It was so bloody stupid Tony could barely let himself think about it. It wasn't even all that dramatic, not like it had happened at the end of some long case where the bad guy went down in a final haze of gunfire or something. They'd been at court for some stupid petty officers DUI. They'd been called in to testify when the kid pled not guilty.

It was completely routine. Something they had to do three or four times a month. Mostly it was just boring, the arresting officers had to hang around an old court house and waste the better half of an afternoon sitting on uncomfortable benches and listening to the monotony of government in action.

Tony usually just played angry birds on his phone or caught up on paperwork. Today hadn't been any different until all hell broke loose. A recently killed lance corporal's husband had brought in a concealed weapon and had planned to kill the marine responsible for the friendly fire death of his wife. Gibbs had been the first one to notice and had dove low and hard at the bereaved husband. It was Tony who had noticed the man turn his aim from the marine who had accidentally killed his wife, to Gibbs. Gibbs was diving right at the muzzle of a loaded gun and Tony grabbed him by the back of his pants and shoved him to the ground, covering him with his body. Tony never felt the bullet that ripped through his absurdly expense, charcoal black Zegna two-button jacket and left him and Gibbs intact.

The scene that took place later in the men's bathroom was etched with angry clarity in Tony's brain.

A mere two hours of paperwork later the NCIS agents were free to go back to base and Tony needed to whiz in the worst way.

He'd barely gotten his dick out when the door to the men's room slammed open, banging against the back wall.

"Need to go too, eh Boss?" Tony said with a grin, "Not surprised with all that courthouse coffee you were guzzling." he sighed and began to empty his bladder, humming tunelessly.

Tony finished his business and had just pulled up his zipper when he was spun around and left staring into angry blue eyes.

"Whoa, Boss, relax. You need a little privacy? I'm on my way out, I'll meet you at the car."

"You ever do something so stupid again and I'll not only have your badge, I'll make sure you don't work in law enforcement again. You got me?"

Tony's grin slid off his face. " No, I don't think I do."

"That little stunt out there, DiNozzo. You pulled me off an assailant and almost got us both killed as a result."

Tony looked at Gibbs in astonishment. "What? We just went over this about one hundred times with both Jag and the Marines assigned to court security."

"Where I covered for you."

"Where you what? Boss, what are you talking about? You were headed straight at a firing glock."

Gibbs looked hard at Tony and stepped closer to him, their chests touching with each inhalation. "I'm talking about you putting yourself between that gun and me."

"Yeah, I saved your life." Tony said harshly.

"You stopped me from getting winged. Maybe. It was reckless and unnecessary."

"I disagree." Tony said.

"I won't have you dying for me, for no goddamn reason, DiNozzo. What, you got a death wish or something?"

"No. I don't." Tony said, his brow wrinkling in confusion, "I saw you in danger and I acted. As I always do… as I always will."

Gibbs grabbed Tony by the shirt front and pulled him forwards until they were so close, Tony could smell stale coffee.

"You do something like that again and you're off the team."

"You're not making any sense. It's my job to protect you."

"It's not your job, Tony." Gibbs yelled and Tony could feel tiny flecks of spittle hit his face. "It's your job to protect the marines under our jurisdiction and keep McGee and Ziva safe." Gibbs shook Tony a little. "It's MY job to keep you alive, not the other way around. Got it?"

Tony shook his head. "Not gonna happen."

Gibbs backed Tony up roughly until he hit the urinal. "I won't have you die for me!" Gibbs shouted, his eyes wild. "I won't have it!"

"And I won't let you get killed by some random, grieving husband." Tony said, his voice steady though his hands were shaking. When Gibbs got like this, there was no arguing with him. It was happening more frequently, Tony thought distantly, wondering how he could diffuse Gibbs' anger.

"You know, Boss, someone see's us like this, you know in the men's room, they're going to think we're lovers." Tony said with a weak grin.

Gibbs pulled wrapped his hands in Tony's shirt and pulled him so close that time stopped and when Tony saw Gibbs' eyes dart to his mouth he simultaneously froze and got so hot he just about caught fire. Then Gibbs shoved him away hard. He stumbled and his back hit the metal urinal with an audible, 'clang'. It caught him in the kidneys and he grunted at the sickening pain of it, dropping to one knee.

"Boss, what the…"

"I… didn't mean to do that DiNozzo." Gibbs said. He was red from his shirt collar to his hair line. "I'll catch a lift back, you take the Charger." Gibbs threw the car keys at Tony's feet and left the bathroom.

By the time Tony made it to his feet and out the door, Gibbs was long gone. His back ached like a son of a bitch. "Gonna piss blood tonight." Tony muttered as he headed to the car.

"McProbie, Zivaaaaaaa, you keep out of trouble while we were gone?"

"We did, but I hear you were not so lucky." Ziva said, looking up from her computer.

"You talk to the boss?"

"He's with Vance." McGee said, "Heard you almost got shot at court today."

Tony took off his jacket, stuck his finger through the burnt hole, and waggled it at McGee. "It takes more than a madman and his loaded gun and a murderous rampage to take out a DiNozzo."

Ziva got up from her desk and grabbed Tony's jacket. "This was close, Tony. Are you sure you are fine?"

Tony's hands were shaking, just a little bit. "Ah, McGee, you see how the little lady worries for us big strong men folk? It's sweet, Ziva, really. But there's no need. We return triumphant." He looked sadly at his ruined jacket, "If only a little less designer."

"You're OK, though?" McGee asked, grabbing Tony's coat and inspecting it.

"I'm fine, McWorry. Gibbs say what he wanted with Vance?"

"Nope, he didn't say anything to us at all. Just stormed up to Vance's office."

Tony plopped down at his desk and waited for Gibbs to come back down.

It was only a few minutes later when McGee's computer beeped, Ziva's blackberry twanged and his own smart phone played the theme song from, "Airwolf".

Tony opened the text, blinked for a moment and then made his way to McGee's desk.

"What is this, then?" Ziva asked, coming over to McGee's desk as well. The three of them huddled around the flickering screen. "We have been assigned course work?"

McGee craned his neck, looking up at Tony. "Did he say anything about this?"

Tony unclenched his jaw, "No."

"But it says we're grounded until we make up all of the FLETC classes and NCIS tutorials we've missed."

"It was Gibbs who insisted we miss them." Ziva said with a frown. "I do not understand. Why would we have to take classes in…" she leaned in, squinting at the screen, "Ethics Afloat, Rules and Regs of Agents posted Aboard."

"At least there is the possibility of getting assigned a carrier, Ziva. It says here we have to take a three day seminar on Sexual Harassment and the role of Management." McGee said, eyes wide, "I mean, that doesn't even make sense."

"I will enjoy the hand to hand classes, I think. It will be nice to refresh my skills."

McGee paled, "My God, Tony. We have to pass the advanced hand to hand combat classes. Those are for, like, seals and…and assassins!" McGee looked at Ziva with a grimace, "No offence."

Ziva smiled, only a little proudly, "No offence, taken."

Tony scanned the email and did a quick calculation in his head.

"This is going to take us more than a month."

McGee and Ziva stared at the email again, Tim muttering under his breath. "There's about 260 hours of course work. Assuming we can get the classes scheduled consecutively and put in 12 hour days. Tony's right. We're going to be grounded for six weeks… at least."

Tony was half way up the stairs to Vance's office when McGee and David noticed.

"Tony?" McGee called out, "You sure that's a good idea?"

Tony smiled loosely. "Sure, Tim, it's gotta be a mistake, right? No way would Gibbs want to be looked inside with the suits."

Tony had only closed the door behind him when Vance's Assistant, Thom, blocked his path. Thom towered over Tony's 6"1' and his wide shoulders blocked the view of Vance's inner office. Rumour had it that Thom, an old friend of Vance's, had moved here from Chicago as a favour to the director. Tony only knew that Thom loved basketball and had been a heavy weight contender before he shattered his hand in a car accident.

Tony flashed his brightest smile, "Thom, my friend. How's life treating you? You like those floor seats I got you last week? Did I tell you or did I tell you, the WNBA is the best game in town."

"Not going to happen, Tony. Sorry." Thom said, flashing a quick smile, "The game was good though, I owe you a beer."

"Skip the beer and just let me talk to Gibbs for a second."

"No." Thom said, crossing his huge arms and standing even taller.

Tony ran his hand through his hair, "I just have to see them for a second, Thom. I won't bug them, promise. There's been a mistake and I just need to get it cleared up."

Thom raised an eyebrow and reached behind him, pulling a file folder off his desk. Flipping open the manila cover he pulled out a sheet of paper and handed it to Tony.

"No mistake, DiNozzo. I just spent the past couple of hours setting up all the coursework you, McGee and David have missed. It's comes from the Director."

"Yeah, but Gibbs would never let us off active duty roster for a month or more, Thom. Let me just scoot by you and we'll have it cleared up in no time."

"I was told not to let anyone in, DiNozzo, and sorry to say, but you were named in particular."

Thom dropped the folder back on his desk, "Listen, you didn't hear it from me, but Gibbs is the one who insisted on all of this."

A little prying later and Tony was angrier than could remember.

Gibbs was going on 'special assignment' and would be unreachable for the near future. Tony had finally gotten enough information out of Thom to know that Gibbs was on the SS Eisenhower. By request.

Tony somehow knew that already. That he'd only leave by his own request. Was Gibbs saying he no longer believed in the team? That he wanted them out of the field and wrapped in cotton. Stuck indoors where they could be watched over like first year Probie's …

After all he'd done for the man. After all the sacrifice and… heartache and fucking hard work. Gibbs stopped believing in him…again. "Yeah, Thanks Thom." he said. He left the office quietly. He bi-passed McGee and Ziva and headed directly to the parking garage. He was angry; He was so angry he wanted to walk back up to Vance's office, pull Gibbs out of it and give him a wakeup call.


	2. Chapter 2

Tony hit the mat just right, rolled from his shoulder and as he regained his feet, hooked the legs out from under the giant marine above him.

The petty officer hit the mat with a "whoof" of exhaled breath and Tony ended the fight with a hard forearm to the marine's throat.

"Time! Good work, DiNozzo."

Tony grinned into the sweaty face of the marine below him, hopped to his feet and extended a hand.

"Thanks, marine, good round."

Petty Officer, Callahan nodded and rubbed his throat with a large calloused hand. "Yeah, anytime DiNozzo."

Tony slid out of the ring and pulling at his sweat soaked grey t-shirt, headed over to the training instructor, Sergeant Stilles. Vance had pulled some strings and brought one of the best hand to hand instructors out of field duty to NCIS.

"So, Teach, we about done, here?" Tony asked.

"Yup and two days ahead of schedule. I don't know what they're feeding you NCIS guys, but your team finished ahead of any other group I've trained." Stilles looked down at his clipboard and back up, "Hell, even that McGee kid fast tracked. Never thought that'd be possible when I first saw his record."

Tony grinned at the man, "He had a little help from our local and lethal Mossad agent."

Stilles barked out a laugh and slid a glance toward the far corner of the gym. David and McGee were doing side by side crunches and you could tell even from a distance that McGee couldn't take his eyes off of Ziva's very short shorts and very long legs.

"Motivation, yeah, I get it."

Tony laughed and pulled the clipboard out of the man's hands. He flipped through a few pages until he got to the final assessment forms and handed it back.

"So you'll sign off on us?"

Tony hit the showers with a satisfied sigh. He'd brought his own shower gel from home and lathered up under the hot spray. Tony's hands moved over his body efficiently, scrubbing the days sweat and sore muscles away. He was pleasantly surprised when he noticed his hands sliding over a little less belly and a little more muscle. He'd lost a good deal of the extra chunk he'd put on since turning the big 4-0.

Guess two weeks of day long training sessions will do that to a guy, Tony thought absently. It's something he planned on getting around to for a while now. Especially after he'd had to shell out a couple of c-note's to get his jackets let out.

Then again, Tony thought, squeezing out a generous handful of conditioner, he used to have a little time for himself. For early morning jogs or Sunday afternoon pick-up games. Hell, he used to have time to cook dinner now and then. Maybe linger over a nice bottle of Shiraz or cassata.

"You looked good out there, DiNozzo."

Tony looked up and saw the petty officer he'd wrestled to the ground earlier. Callahan, that was it. Callahan was as naked as Tony and had a warm smile on his face and a gleam in his eye.

Tony smiled back, "That right?" The petty officer was tall and lean and his muscles were cut into hard definition. Big muscled thighs and hairy calves and Tony looked his fill.

"You look good in here too." the petty officer said.

Tony smiled, felt his eyes crinkling in genuine amusement. It had been ages since someone young and sexy had noticed him. Tony ran his hands slowly through his hair.

"That right, marine?"

Officer Callahan turned on the water head across from Tony's, testing the temperature with his hands before stepping under the spray.

"You smell good, too." Callahan said, taking a deep breath and running his hands down ripped abdominal muscles. "You want to let me borrow some of that fancy soap?"

Tony laughed at the cheesy line, his eyes following the Officers hand. He grabbed his tube of wash and tossed it over. "You do seem a little dirty." He couldn't help himself.

The petty officer laughed too. They kept their hands off each other; they were in the NCIS communal showers after all. But hands lingered and soapy, round asses were washed thoroughly as were semi hard pricks and firm swaying sacs.

Tony dried off and got dressed feeling better than he had in weeks, Hell better than he had in years. He was whistling and horny and hungry. He was looking forward to the next… whatever. It was a feeling he had almost forgotten.

The past year or two had been hard. They had been filled with too much bad coffee and fast food and too little sleep and too much stress and…fuck, just too much.

Tony pretty much worshiped Gibbs, he knew that. Knew he looked up to him with a fervour that bordered on religion. Tony would walk a thousand miles barefoot for that man. He'd climb a mountain or slay a dragon, but damn it, Gibbs could be a nightmare to work for. Tony hadn't realised how tired and burned out he'd become.

They'd spent the first week in a tactical ops course that had been so intellectually demanding that Tony hadn't had the leftover brain power to think about Gibbs.

Tony, Ziva and McGee were faced off against other units in multi-level 'war game' style scenarios. The design of the course was to force teams to work with each other in close quarters, under strict time constraints.

"Kind of like real life, only fake and with more time wasting." Tony had stage whispered during orientation.

McGee and Ziva had snickered alongside him and he had a flash of the best days at boarding school and he smiled like a shark. No one liked being grounded.

They completed the Tactical Ops course and celebrated by taking Ducky and Ab's out for dinner and drinks at, "Tavern on the Green", a Fed bar within walking distance.

They grabbed the big table at the back of the bar, surrounded by stained glass reproduction windows and red velvet drapes. Tony ordered a couple pitchers of beer for the table and perused the laminated menu. They mostly did the deep fried things here, but that was alright by him. Comfort food was just what the doctor ordered. OK, maybe not this doctor, Tony thought, as Ducky looked over the menu and frowned over the lack of fresh and green

The meals were ordered and deep fried goodness had just arrived when the inevitable conversation started.

"Alright, Tony, spill it. I've waited long enough. What happened and where is Gibbs?" Abby asked, forking a good portion of her calamari onto his plate.

"Oh right, there's no way he didn't call you, Oh favoured surrogate daughter." Tony grinned widely. The smile felt strained even to him and he wondered how easily the others could see through it.

"Well, yeah, he did. But one little lousy voice mail about an agent shortage on the Eisenhower? I mean, come on. Their Agent Afloat suddenly has to leave and the only one capable of filling in is Gibbs. Yeah, right."

"It's a valid argument." Ducky said, picking the cheese off a dripping wedge of garlic bread. "Jethro does tend to run off when things become emotionally overwhelming."

"I do not think we should be discussing this. Gibbs is not here to defend himself, after all." Ziva said.

"That would be true if were gossiping, my dear, but showing one's concern with friends is not the same thing. We all love Jethro and are all, I assume, worried about him?" Ducky phrased the statement as a question and looked kindly about the table.

"Of course, we love him!" Abby said. "I just want to know why he's left us…again."

"You are right, Ducky. I, too would like to know when he is coming back… and why he has forced us into all of this unnecessary training." Ziva added, archly.

"Hey, today wasn't so bad." McGee put in, smiling at Ziva. "It was kind of fun, like a role playing game."

Tony rolled his eyes and reached over, grabbing a fat, salsa laden nacho off McGee's plate. "It wasn't bad, but I don't know if it was, 'role playing' fun. Oh, Elf Lord."

"Oh, Ha ha, Tony. Hysterical."

"Hey, we were talking about, Gibbs."

"Honestly, Abs, I don't know what to tell you. One moment he was fine. Well, fine for Gibbs, so, angry. The next we were grounded and he was gone." Tony said, "He might just be taking a break. Kind of a Gibbs style vacation. And instead of girls in bikinis and mai tai's, he decided to work 18 hour days… as the only cop on board a carrier ship with the population of a small city…"

"You know, that does kind of sound like him." McGee said, finishing his pint in a long swallow. "And we've been working pretty much non-stop since the Bower case six months ago."

"Eight months." Ziva and Tony said at the same time.

"Right." McGee faintly blushed, "Eight months, it was right after the whole Ortega thing."

"Hmm, I don't know, Are you sure he didn't say anything else to you about it, Anthony?"

Ducky had asked with all of usual kindness and understanding and Tony tried hard not to crush the pint glass he held in his hand. He didn't want to tell him about how Gibbs had been going off on him more and more lately. How he was angry only when he wasn't really pissed off. How he'd freaked out because Tony had saved his life and shoved him so hard he pissed blood for two days straight and still had green-yellow bruises across his back. He didn't say any of this because no matter what, Gibbs would always be the sun that Tony rotated around… and he didn't want the team to blame him for Gibbs' leaving.

"Nothing important, Duck-man. You know, I think we're making too much of this anyhow. It's not like he went to Mexico. He's working. You know, doing things the Gibbs way. Fighting crime one marine at a time."

"Then I am quite sure you're correct, dear boy. Jethro will come back to us in due time, no worse for wear."

"Ok, so I have a question." Abby said, catching the table's attention.

Tony braced himself for the next line of questioning.

"…Who knows how to play, "I never?"

Tony relaxed back into his seat and swiped up the last bit of sour cream from his plate.

Ducky clapped his hands together, "Capital suggestion, my dear girl. I'll start. I've never…" Ducky's eyes swung over to Ziva. "Kissed a Mossad agent."

Ziva smiled, "Ducky, I believe you have to drink, yes?"

"Why, yes I do, my dear." Ducky said taking a sip of McAllen's whiskey.

McGee stared open mouthed, "Ducky?"

Ziva rolled her eyes, "On the cheek McGee."

McGee narrowed his eyes for a brief moment before planting a wet kiss on the corner of Ziva's mouth.

He took a big gulp of beer and shrugged his shoulders, a wide grin threatening, "What?" he said, "I was thirsty."

"Alright." Ziva said staring right at Tony, her dark eyes flashing with mischief, "I, have never kissed a man."

Tony grabbed a half empty pitcher and refilled his glass. "I drink with pride, Zivaaaa. Besides, you open up the field to both teams and you're bound to have more…er… field to mow." Tony finished with a wink.

"No way." McGee said, "You're just messing with us, right? You drank because of Lt. Voss."

Tony grinned and shook his head slowly, "Nope." He was back on comfortable ground. He could talk about sex all night long. "My door swings both ways."

"Really?" Ziva said, "I'm impressed. You've never mentioned it before."

"A guy's gotta keep some sense of mystery."

"Huh, It kind of makes me like you more." McGee said.

Abby rolled her eyes, "Wow, for federal investigators you guys are kind of slow on the uptake."

"You're saying you knew?" McGee asked, incredulously. "How?"

"The eyes, Timmy, the windows to the soul. In Tony's case, it's his eyes that rest on every attractive ass they see."

"Hey!" Tony said, with false outrage, "I resemble that remark."

"How bout, you, Ducky? You know Tony was batting for both teams?"

"I must say, I find this propensity for using sports metaphors to describe ones sexuality, a decidedly American characteristic. All of this grass and players and fields has a certain kind of crude double entendre about it, but it tends to overlook the human factor. Who Anthony sleeps with is his own business, of course, but I'm not surprised, given his obvious desire for affection, that he seeks it in both sexes."

"You know, Anthony, dear, dear boy." Ducky slurred many drinks later. He swayed a little and leaned in. "I think you are a very attractive young man."

Tony heard McGee giggling to his left and hushed him, "Quiet, Gee… I…I. You go right ahead, Duck."

"Why, thank you, Anthony. Polite too."

"Yeah like a ….." Ziva's sentence dropped off as McGee's laughter increased.

"You shush. Ducky's talking." Abby chastised with a wide grin. "Now, you were saying about Tony being attractive."

"Yes. Very attractive. So there is… there is no need, you see." Ducky finished with a smile.

"Oh, yeah. Thanks Duck." Tony said, slowly pulling the glass of scotch away from the doctor.

"I don't see." Ziva said plainly.

"Nope, me neither." McGee added.

"Slutty!" Ducky pronounced. "There's no need for Anthony to be so slutty."

No one said a word for a long moment while everyone stared at Tony, waiting to see his reaction.

"It's cause he's so pretty." McGee said seriously, breaking the silence.

The table broke out in howls of laughter and after a moment or two, Tony looked around the table, at all of his friends, red faced and drunk as skunks and he joined in.

The next morning, the team made it into work on time and only a little green around the gills.

The tactics course and the night out that followed had been a watershed for them all. They began moving through the assigned courses, lectures and demonstrations with a renewed sense of camaraderie and focus and though it was almost a certainty that all of them missed Gibbs, no one talked about it.

TBC…


End file.
